


Under the sun and rain

by jaimeslannister



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, First Kiss, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimeslannister/pseuds/jaimeslannister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has loved Alexander since they met, but does Alexander feel the same way?</p><p>(Spoiler alert: Yes, he does). ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the sun and rain

**Author's Note:**

> a) This is supposed to be set in the summer of 1776, before the Battle of Long Island, and yes I know they hadn't even met each other yet by that time but I'm already taking historical liberties here and that's hardly the most glaring lol
> 
> b) This was supposed to be smutty, but I'm a sucker for first kiss fics so whoops here goes

Looking back on it now, John should have known much earlier. Of course, there were looks and touches among the other men, but they were nothing out of the ordinary, things that went unremarked upon. Alexander’s, though – he should have known. 

It was hot that day, the kind of heat that gives no relief, where the sun seems to hit the hardest from every angle. There was no cloud in the sky, nothing to provide any sort of respite. Most of the men were inside their tents; happy for the bit of shade they gave. Today would be the day John had chosen to wash his uniform – it was just his luck that it would be the most unbearable temperature. It had been hot in South Carolina, but this was different – the air felt so heavy, so full with moisture, and yet rain was nowhere to be found. 

John walked about a mile to the river, stopping every few yards to wipe the sweat off his brow and to tie his hair back once more – it never stayed in place with this kind of heat. By the time he reached the water, his shirt was positively drenched and his breeches stuck uncomfortably to his legs. The uniform, having not been cleaned for two weeks, smelled unbelievably awful. He had never been so thankful to see the river in his life. 

John pulled off his shirt and his shoes, and, after looking around and realizing there was nobody else within his line of vision, unlaced his breeches as well. He waded in the water up to his knees, then his chest, and lastly put his head under, savoring the way it massaged his scalp and cleansed him of the sweat that had been building up all morning. After washing his clothes and laying them out to dry, he lay on his back, floating. It was so quiet here. John had almost forgotten what quiet was. At the camps, people were always yelling, giving some sort of order to someone else. Even in his own room, he was never at peace. Alexander was always talking, or writing, or talking about what he was writing. He was so excited all the time; he had so many ideas he wanted to share. 

And John loved that about him, the enthusiasm he brought to their friendship. Upon hearing of John’s plan to free black soldiers in return for their service in the war, Alexander had wholeheartedly agreed, and his deep blue eyes had lit up in that now familiar way. God, his eyes… Then John’s own snapped open. He had to stop thinking about Alex, his _friend_ , in this way. It wasn’t right, and anyway, he was sure the feelings weren’t mutual. Though perhaps…

Before John could let himself once again drift into thoughts of his roommate, he heard a loud clap of thunder. _What? When did that happen?_ A drizzle started to fall from the newly gray sky, which quickly turned into a downpour. He would have been perfectly content to stay where he was if there had only been rain, but then a flash of lightning appeared across the sky. He knew better than to be in the water during this kind of storm, and with as much speed as he could muster, threw back on his clothes and ran back through the mud to the camps. 

If the space had been mostly empty before, it was now completely vacant. When he finally reached his tent, Alexander was sitting at his makeshift desk. He looked up at John, who was panting, and began to laugh. “Laurens. Weren’t you supposed to clean that uniform today?” 

John looked at the clothes and groaned. They were soaking wet and covered in mud. “Another time, I guess. What is the matter with this rain anyway?”

“New York summer, my friend. It happens all the time. It should stop within the hour, if you wanted to give that laundry another try,” Alex offered. 

John shook his head. He’d had enough of the unpredictable weather for the day. He hung up the dirty uniform on the clothesline, so it could at least begin to dry, and sat down on his mattress. The clothes he had on now were equally filthy, but that didn’t matter so much. He turned to Alexander. “Hey. What’re you writing about now?” If it had been anyone else, John would have said that to be polite, but it was Alexander. Any chance he had to get into his thoughts, he grabbed at. 

“Another essay on the barbarity of slavery. You know, John, your plan really inspired me,” Alexander said. 

John blushed and put his head down. He loved that Alexander had called him by his first name, and he loved even more the way he could put his thoughts into words. “Can I read it?” He asked tentatively. 

“Sure, though it’s still in early days, so excuse any flaws.” Alexander got up, walked over to John, handed the papers over to him, let his fingers touch the other man’s for half a second longer than proper, then sat down next to him. 

John perused the essay, filing away ideas and phrases in his head for future arguments to his father. When he finished, he noticed that Alexander was staring at him, awaiting a reaction, no doubt. “This is good, Alexander.” He smiled to himself as he saw the relief wash over Alexander's face. 

“You honestly believe so? I mean, I know it’s not perfect or anything, there’s so much that needs to be edited. I’ve got a lot of improvements in mind already, once I’m done I swear it’ll be better-” 

John cut him off. “Your argument is very well stated. Really.” Alexander always rambled like this when he was excited about something, and John found it endearing, but didn’t want him to get too worked up. Once he got going, there was no stopping him. 

Now it was Alexander’s turn to blush – a coloring that came often, that highlighted the auburn of his hair. “I’m sorry. I know, I was talking too much again. But I’m so glad you liked it. I mean, really, it’s all because of you. It’s all for you.” he said, smiling shyly. 

John watched the expression with intent. Outside of their conversations, and those that included their other friends, it was rare to receive such a genuine smile from Alexander. In the weeks they’d known each other, John noted often the blankness in his friend’s face while his mouth turned up in deference to whomever he spoke. This time was different – his eyes crinkled at the corners, their deep blue seeming to glitter in the soft light surrounding them. John found himself unable to look away, and silently cursed the want he had for the man beside him. His stare only broke when Alexander lowered his eyes and bit his lip, his cheeks ever reddening. 

_Oh, God_. It was all John could manage to even think. He followed Alexander’s gaze to the floor, their feet, their legs, and John swallowed audibly when he noticed the space between them had closed, and that their knees were touching. Unsure as to when that had occurred – and by whom it had been initiated – John froze, unwilling to move one way or the other. 

His voice lower than usual, Alexander murmured, “You should take off your boots, John. They’re caked in mud.”

John obeyed, and wondered when he had begun to hold his breath. 

The other man continued. “So are your pants. And your shirt is now transparent, even your hair is not dry.” He reached up to push a lock of it behind John’s ear, then trailed his hand over John’s jaw and neck before allowing it to rest on his shoulder. “Though it’s so hot, it won’t be long before you’re not so wet.” 

John’s mind was a whirlwind. To any onlooker, there would have been no possibility that this was anything other than what he had desired for so long, yet John still doubted. He had heard countless stories of Alexander’s romps with women, how he had seduced them, so many John had convinced himself that was solely women Alexander reserved himself for – yet what else could this be? He could not formulate a response, and only a small “Alexander…” escape from his lips. 

With his other hand, Alexander pressed a finger to John’s mouth. “John…” he replied, teasing. 

“I want -” Before John could go any further, Alexander removed the finger and brought his lips to John’s own. They were soft and full, and John had never experienced anything as wonderful in his life. He reciprocated with urgency, pouring all he had felt since he first met Alexander into his kiss. When they broke away for air, Alexander smiled again, the real one. “Is that what you want?” He asked. John could only nod. Alexander let out a loud breath. “Oh, thank god, I was so worried, I mean I had no idea if you felt the same way until only recently, and then you weren’t really responding, but then I just thought “fuck it” and –“ 

“Shut up,” John said, grinning, and pulled Alexander in again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! of course, feedback is always appreciated :)


End file.
